The Language of the Birds

Birds have fascinated humans since ancient times, and they have been associated with various beliefs and myths. In alchemy, birds have several meanings, depending on their species, color, behavior, and other characteristics. Some of the most common birds in alchemical symbolism are the phoenix, the peacock, the eagle, the crow, and the dove.

The phoenix is perhaps the most iconic bird in alchemy, representing the cycle of death and rebirth, the purification of the soul, and the attainment of immortality. According to the legend, the phoenix lives for several hundred years, builds a nest of aromatic woods, and sets it on fire to consume itself in the flames. From the ashes, a new phoenix arises, symbolizing the spiritual transformation that alchemists sought. The phoenix is often depicted with wings spread, surrounded by fire, and holding a serpent or an egg in its beak.

The peacock is another bird that has strong symbolic associations in alchemy. Known for its beautiful and colorful feathers, the peacock represents the integration of opposites, the harmony of the elements, and the attainment of enlightenment. In alchemy, the peacock often appears as an emblem of the Philosopher’s Stone, which is believed to have the power to transmute base metals into gold and grant eternal life. The peacock is sometimes depicted with a serpent in its claws or a crown on its head, indicating its regal and mystical nature.

In the fermentation stage of alchemy, the symbolism of the peacock and the cauda pavonis takes on a specific meaning. Fermentation is the stage in which the prima materia, or the raw material, is broken down and transformed by the addition of a fermenting agent, such as yeast or bacteria. The peacock symbolizes the raw material before fermentation, while the cauda pavonis represents the colorful and transformative process of fermentation itself. The colors and patterns that emerge during fermentation are a sign that the raw material is being broken down and transformed into something new and more complex. Just as the peacock sheds its feathers to reveal new ones, so too does the raw material shed its old form during fermentation to become something new and more refined. The symbolism of the peacock and the cauda pavonis therefore represents the transformative power of fermentation in alchemy, as well as the ever-evolving nature of the alchemical process itself.

The eagle is a bird of prey that is associated with the sun, the element of fire, and the masculine principle in alchemy. The eagle represents the soaring spirit, the divine nature of the soul, and the pursuit of excellence. In alchemy, the eagle is often shown with wings extended, holding a thunderbolt or a scepter, and gazing at the sun or the stars. The eagle also symbolizes the alchemist’s aspiration to rise above the mundane world and attain spiritual enlightenment.

The crow is a bird that has ambiguous connotations in alchemy, representing both the shadow aspect of the psyche and the transformative power of darkness. The crow is associated with the element of air, the lunar cycle, and the feminine principle. In alchemy, the crow often appears as a messenger, a guide, or a trickster, leading the alchemist to the hidden depths of the unconscious. The crow is sometimes depicted with a key or a lantern, indicating its role as a guardian of secrets and mysteries.

The dove is a bird that represents peace, purity, and love in alchemy. The dove is associated with the element of water, the moon, and the feminine principle. In alchemy, the dove often appears as a symbol of the Holy Spirit, the divine grace that descends upon the alchemist during the process of transformation. The dove is sometimes depicted with an olive branch or a heart, indicating its role as a bringer of blessings and healing.

In conclusion, birds have played a significant role in alchemical symbolism, representing various aspects of spiritual transformation, purification, and enlightenment. The phoenix, the peacock, the eagle, the crow, and the dove are some of the most common birds used in alchemy, each with its unique meanings and associations. By understanding the symbolism of birds in alchemy, we can gain insights into the alchemical process and the mysteries of the universe.

The Ouroboros

The ouroboros is an ancient symbol that has been used throughout history in various cultures, including ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome. It is a symbol of a serpent or dragon eating its own tail, forming a complete circle. In alchemy, the ouroboros is considered a symbol of unity, wholeness, and the cyclical nature of life and death.

Carl Jung, a prominent Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, explored the symbol of the ouroboros in his theories on alchemy. According to Jung, alchemy is not only a precursor to modern chemistry but also a spiritual and psychological practice. Jung believed that the alchemical process was a metaphor for the journey of self-discovery and the integration of the unconscious and conscious mind.

The ouroboros, for Jung, represents the paradoxical nature of the self. The snake eating its own tail represents the idea that the self contains both the beginning and the end, the past and the future, and the light and the dark. The ouroboros is a symbol of the eternal cycle of life, death, and rebirth.

In alchemy, the ouroboros is also associated with the concept of the Philosopher’s Stone. The Philosopher’s Stone is a substance that alchemists believed had the power to transform base metals into gold, and also had the power to grant immortality. Jung believed that the Philosopher’s Stone was a symbol of the self, and that the alchemical process was a means of achieving individuation, or the realization of the self.

The ouroboros is also a symbol of the union of opposites. Jung believed that the self was composed of both masculine and feminine elements, and that the process of individuation required the integration of these elements. The ouroboros represents the idea that the self contains both the light and the dark, the conscious and the unconscious, the masculine and the feminine.

The ouroboros is a powerful symbol in alchemy that represents the cyclical nature of life and the paradoxical nature of the self. The ouroboros is a symbol that continues to fascinate and inspire people today, and its message of unity and wholeness remains relevant in our modern world.

I Was Ready to Tell

I came across a book by Rumi in the afternoon after I went to say goodbye to my grandmother.

I picked it up and opened it right to this page:

It told the story of my last few weeks. Facing not only death in the family, but also personal illness and the fears that came with it.

And not just death, but coming to terms with the purpose of my life. Seeing what I have been through, and knowing what truly matters to me.

I’ve been wanting to speak the truth about myself and my life but I’ve been afraid for so long.

I was ready to tell

the story of my life

but the ripple of my tears

and the agony of my heart

wouldn’t let me”

The past few weeks I’ve been only too conscious of my own mortality and that of others. Seeing this, I started to write. To speak and to share what I’ve held close all these years.

I began to stutter

saying a word here and there

and all along I felt

as tender as a crystal

ready to be shattered”

I’ve had many nightmares, faced many demons, had so many little (ego) deaths along the way.

And now my worst fears (at least for my personal health) have mostly passed. 

Though the panic is gone

I am now offended

why should I be so helpless

rising with one wave

and falling with the next”

But I leave the shadow of death gratefully, because I’ve found there was a message for me there. 

Now how can I be

a skeptic

about the

resurrection and

coming to life again

Since in this world

I have many times

like my own imagination

died and

been born again.”

I feel humbled, grounded, released from burdens no longer necessary. And ready to carry my truth forward into the light.

Remembrance of Things Past

My first insight into my past lives happened several months ago, and I didn’t think much about it after that. 

It wasn’t until I went to my second session with Angelic that it came up again.

I’m not exactly sure how it came up in our conversation before the reiki healing, but I know I mentioned the short vision of the past life that I’d had, without giving very many details.

Just that I’d had it, and it had seemed like a difficult ending to that life, which seemed to confirm what she had told me before about having had “very trying past lives” where I was “persecuted for something I didn’t do.”

That was all I said, and she didn’t have much to add about it, and so we went ahead and started the session.

I’m pretty sure the part I’m about to describe began as Angelic was working on my 4th to my 3rd chakra.

Here is what I saw then: 

A cathedral at night appeared suddenly. I first saw it from above and kind of descended into it.

It was a cool night, and the inside of this cathedral was lit by hundreds of burning candles.

It was entirely empty, and it seemed to have been very late at night.

The scene then shifted, and I found myself outside, in a covered passageway running alongside one of the cathedral walls.

I then saw my past self, the one I had seen in my first past life vision.

I immediately ran toward her and embraced her. I threw my arms around her and held her so tightly. I was so happy and excited to see this woman I recognized as myself.

We separated, but I held my arm out to her, and then, arm in arm, just like old friends, we walked around the cathedral together, talking and quietly laughing and catching up.

This went on for several moments, then I started to wonder: who was it that had rushed up to meet this self?

I tried to imagine her. I wondered if it was the “me” that was laying there on that table in Angelic’s office, me dressed in an old gray sweater and black leggings, the “me” of today, Eleanor.

I tried to move my awareness out of the body I was inhabiting in this dream space. I tried putting myself in the place of “past me,” to observe from there this self that had just now rushed up to meet her with so much joy.

I took a step back then, and observed my Self.

I saw a brilliant white body of light, radiating outward, and having the outline of a human form. I saw this self as pure light, pure energy.

But when I decided to get closer and look directly at this self, this brilliant light became a perfect mirror, reflecting back to me my own image, whatever that happened to be at the time.


The scene shifted again. It was now the beginning of a very cool early morning, and I was in the graveyard outside the cathedral.

I came to my own grave. My past self had recently been buried here, and there were hundreds of white roses that had been piled upon my tomb earlier.

Then I found myself in this tomb, from within the vantage point of my buried past self.

There was a crack, a sliver of light coming through between the two heavy stones that had been laid over my grave.

I began to feel restless, and started shifting and moving around there in my grave.

Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. It was time for me to get up, and to leave my burial place behind.


I was concentrating on this when I heard a noise coming from right outside of Angelic’s office.

It was two older men who had started using one of the exercise machines placed right next to her door.

I started to get really upset. I was so mad. “Why won’t they just shut up?” I wondered.

I returned to my vision, and kept trying to focus on pushing aside the heavy tombstones and escaping my grave.

But the voices outside were too loud. They were too distracting.

“I can’t do it,” I thought. “They’re too loud, it’s their fault and I can’t so I won’t even try anymore.”

I started to get even more angry and upset.

“Here I am, trying to escape my grave, and these people are making it impossible for me. I’m doing my best to heal and I can’t because these people won’t let me!”

Then I had an insight: this was just like in my real life. 

People were always going to be in my way, telling me I couldn’t do this or I didn’t deserve that.

I had to be willing to stand up and rise, no matter what was going on outside of me. 

And so I made the decision: I was getting myself out of that grave, no matter what.

I turned my attention back to my inner vision. 

I focused on the heavy stones above my grave, and willed them to move apart enough that I could find my way out.

I was determined. This time, I wasn’t going to let anything stop me. 

The men outside kept talking. They kept on and on, but I just focused on my vision.

The voices outside were so loud then, they even appeared as characters in my vision (as angry townspeople yelling at the edge of the cemetary).

But I was already out. Nothing could stop me now.

Dressed in my burial gown of gold and white, I pulled myself completely out of that grave, and I started to run.

The sun was brilliant, blazing high above me. It shone for me, and it gave me strength. I felt this powerful, glowing warmth within and without. 

I picked up the pace, and I ran.

I ran and I ran, faster than I’d ever run before.

It was exhilarating. This freedom, this speed, this joy, as I ran, self-possessed and self-assured, encouraged by my brilliant, loving and powerful sun.

I ran. I came to a cliff’s edge and I jumped, leaping up, arms outstretched, to kiss the sun.

I became one with this power, before I turned and dove down, down into the sea below.


I started to swim slowly down, then more quickly.

Swiftly, I moved through the dark, quiet sea. 

As I swam, I picked up momentum, and quickly I made my way to the very bottom of the ocean.

I arrived at the very depths, and here, I found a great black boulder, and I swam near and pulled myself to rest on top of it.

Then suddenly, I was no longer at the bottom of the sea.

Instead, I saw myself, naked, covered only by my long black hair, sitting on this rock in outer space. 

I sat on this small black moon, a planet all to myself. 

An interstellar breeze caressed my skin and rustled my hair as I sat on my moon, contemplating the cosmos.

I was here for only a moment, not long at all, before I was overtaken by a new vision.

I was no longer on my moon. I was no longer anywhere, really.

All I knew was fire, all I could see where deep orange flames everywhere around me. 

I felt the anguish of burning, deep rage.

“NOOOOOOOOO!!”

I let out this primal animal scream inside my mind.

“No!” I repeated. “No! You don’t know me! Get away from me, get out! No!”

I wasn’t sure what was going on, or what this was about. 

But I knew that it was right for me to be here. 

I knew it was right for this to burn, so that one day it would turn to ashes, as it should.

So I let it burn.

My rage was all the fuel I ever needed, and I allowed it to be so.

I watched, in the flames, of the flames, on fire with this rage, consumed and willing to be here till eternity if need be.

Slowly, the flames died down, and then, a new vision quietly emerged.

Down at my feet, I felt the same vines of white roses as before appear, and begin to twine themselves over my body. The vine snaked itself around me, crawled around both of my ankles, white roses blooming, lovingly rooting me to the earth.

I felt a deep and pervading sense of calm. Maybe forgiveness, but even more than that, a sense of rightness, of being well with the world, of acceptance by the earth.

It told me, “It is okay. You don’t have to struggle anymore. You deserve to be here. Rest, you are at home.”

Descansos

Journal Date: Thursday, November 5, 2020

I just finished an exercise Estés suggested we do in this chapter on rage in Women who Run with the Wolves. It’s called “Descansos,” and here we are to mark all the little (and large) deaths of our lives.

Descansos are symbols that mark a death. Right there, right on that spot, someone’s journey in life halted unexpectedly. To make descansos means taking a look at your life and marking where the small deaths, las muertes chiquitas, and the big deaths, las muertes grandotas, have taken place.”

Estés encourages us to make our own descansos, to sit down and examine our lives, our losses, all the places which must be remembered and at the same time, put to rest.


I had a lot of crosses to mark.

My life has been filled with losses. One right after another, with little chance to recover in between.

At this point, I have between 25-30 crosses marked down to represent what I have lost.

Descansos

It’s a lot, but somehow it still doesn’t feel like enough.

I don’t even think my greatest losses are even on here.

My deepest pain comes from having missed something more intangible than a job or a boyfriend or anything I listed here before.

Maybe my greatest loss is actually me. My own self.

To have grown up never knowing (not to mention never liking) myself.

To never have felt at home. Not even in my own body. 

Especially not in my own body. This was a source of shame, and where I could locate all of my pain. Better just to not be here. To escape, by whatever means necessary.

And not just my body. I was estranged from all of me.

Always looking outside of myself for the “right” answer. 

The “right” way to look, think, feel, act, be.

I didn’t even know what I was looking for.

I just knew that I was doing it wrong.

I was just wrong, period.

I never belonged to myself. 

That’s the worst part.

I was in such a rush to give myself away. I would sell myself off to the lowest bidder. I was constantly in a rush to find the quickest way to betray myself next.

It’s very sad.

Looking back on all of this, I feel so tired. 

Exhausted. 

What was the meaning behind all of this?

It’s hard to understand.

But I’m starting to feel ready to grieve my losses. To grieve, and to let go.


“Remember in ‘The Crescent Moon Bear’ the woman said a prayer and laid the wandering orphaned dead to rest. That is what one does in descansos. Descansos is a conscious practice that takes pity on and gives honor to the orphaned dead of your psyche, laying them to rest at last.

“Be gentle with yourself and make the descansos, the resting places for the aspects of yourself that were on their way to somewhere, but never arrived. Descansos mark the death sites, the dark times, but they are also love notes to your suffering. They are transformative. There is a lot to be said for pinning things to the earth so they don’t follow us around. There is a lot to be said for laying them to rest.”